


Evening Meal

by DictionaryWrites



Series: I'm Only Teasing, Doc [4]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, BDSM, Dom/sub, Hand Jobs, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Riding, Threesome, ace!Enjolras
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-01
Updated: 2013-12-01
Packaged: 2018-01-03 04:28:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1065766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DictionaryWrites/pseuds/DictionaryWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Feuilly and Enjolras come over for dinner, and Combeferre tries to be as obedient as he can.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Evening Meal

At Combeferre’s request, Courfeyrac wrote that night’s rules on the back of an old postcard and pinned them to the fridge.  _No standing unless ordered otherwise. No clothes. No hiding. Take what you’re given. Speak when spoken to. No coming without permission. Obey orders from Feuilly and Enjolras._  And then, underlined,  _ **Safeword if you need to.**_

They were simple. Combeferre obeyed most of these rules anyway, and even if the nakedness and the crawling were different, they were simple. He waited patiently in the living room as Courfeyrac bustled about the kitchen, kneeling on a cushion on the floor with his head bowed and his hands held neatly behind his back. 

He wondered how this would be. He knew Enjolras was asexual, but Feuilly wasn’t, and he wondered if they’d play with Combeferre, if they’d tease, if they’d make him whine and beg like Courfeyrac did. Truth be told, the thought was not unappealing, and he considered this.

He had no idea what to expect, but he trusted Courfeyrac, and he trusted Feuilly and Enjolras. And he could always safeword, could he not? He could always tap out, and Courfeyrac wouldn’t judge him for it. 

Combeferre froze when he heard the door open, and Courfeyrac greeted Feuilly and Enjolras bright, conversationally, as if they weren’t about to be confronted with their other friend completely naked and kneeling for them in the living room.

"He’s just through there. Give him these." And then Feuilly and Enjolras were stepping through. Enjolras stepped up to Combeferre, and said, "Hello." in a soft tone. Before he could respond, Enjolras had brought something to his lips, and Combeferre took it obediently, suckling at Enjolras’ fingers.

It was a small piece of peach, and Enjolras watched him as he chewed and swallowed, looking up at the blond. He was glad Enjolras could not see the way his hands were quivering behind him. “Don’t you look pretty?” Feuilly asked, in almost a  _coo_ , and he pressed a second piece to Combeferre’s lips a Enjolras moved to settle on the couch.

He curled a hand in Combeferre’s hair once he’d swallowed. “Hello, Enjolras. Feuilly.” He greeted politely, and Feuilly scratched  _delightfully_  at Combeferre’s scalp in some sort of reward before he pulled back and sat next to Enjolras.

The blond look Feuilly’s hand, and clasped it loosely, their fingers interlinked. Courfeyrac came into the room now, pouring three glasses of red wine, and settled in the other armchair to talk to Feuilly and Enjolras.

"Scoot closer, Combeferre, at my feet." Courfeyrac ordered, and Combeferre did, settling there and laying his head against Courfeyrac’s knee even though the position uncomfortably pressed his spectacles to the side of his head.

And with that order, they ignored him. Feuilly talked a little about his work, and then Enjolras started a conversation about the recent protests in Thailand, and Courfeyrac and Feuilly slipped into easy conversation about it. And they  _ignored_  him, and Combeferre pressed against Courfeyrac’s leg, curling his arm around the other’s calf.

Courfeyrac put an absent-minded hand on Combeferre’s shoulder, stroking over the muscle there, but didn’t look at him, and dear God above, that should not have been hot. It should not have made Combeferre’s cock hard to think that at this moment, they were treating him like a pet, like an  _animal_ , and ignoring him almost entirely.

"Come, let’s eat." Courfeyrac said, and he stood, forcing Combeferre to sit back. Enjolras and Feuilly settled at the table, and Courfeyrac across from them, and Combeferre was red as he followed them into the room on his hands and knees, bringing the cushion with him because Courfeyrac had said to.

The meal was simple enough, a stirfry of chicken, slices of potato, carrots, pepper and mushrooms, and they ate while still talking. Halfway through the meal, Courfeyrac began to feed Combeferre pieces from his plate with his fingers, and Combeferre took them obediently. 

"Are you working this week?" Enjolras asked Feuilly, and the workingman shook his head as he answered.

"No, you’ve got me all to yourself." He said easily. "Combeferre, come here." And Combeferre did, under the table, and took the pieces of chicken from Feuilly’s hand, but when Enjolras moved to give him a piece of potato, he shifted, leaning back and veering away from his hand.

Enjolras raised his eyebrows, looking over his shoulder and regarding the note on the fridge. “ _Take what you’re given_.” He read off smoothly, and Combeferre let out a quiet noise, because God, he was full, but he took the disc of fried potato all the same, and chewed and swallowed. 

They took mercy on him after that, though, and didn’t give him anything else to eat, but God, where he settled, Feuilly shifted, putting his foot between Combeferre’s leg and hovering his boot above Combeferre’s cock, pressing just slightly.

Combeferre let out a strangled whine, and Courfeyrac laughed. “Are you teasing him?”

"Perhaps a little." Feuilly allowed, and Combeferre stared fixedly at Enjolras’ knee, trying not to cry out again. "Shall we…?"

"I think so." They stood again, and Combeferre followed them, and now he was all too conscious of how debauched he looked like this, his cock hard and hanging down between his legs, his ass up in the air as he moved on his hands and knees. 

"Up in my lap." Feuilly said, and Combeferre crawled up obediently, and Courfeyrac was settled alongside the workingman while Enjolras dropped into the armchair Courfeyrac had earlier vacated to watch the three of them. Combeferre sprawled across them, his crotch over Feuilly’s lap, his head in Courfeyrac’s. "He’s a lot prettier than I thought." Feuilly said conversationally, and Combeferre shivered. 

"Get on your hands and knees. Knees on one side of Feuilly’s lap, hands between him and Courfeyrac." Enjolras’ order was smooth, and Combeferre was used to obeying commands from Enjolras, even if it was usually in a much different context. 

He moved into the position, and Feuilly hummed, a calloused, well-worked hand stroking over Combeferre’s spine. Courfeyrac passed him the bottle, and then Feuilly’s fingers, two of them, lubed, were pressing against Combeferre’s entrance. 

He let out a whine, and then he bowed his head, but Courfeyrac grabbed his chin and pulled it up. “No hiding.” Combeferre nodded, and then he let out a sharp noise as Feuilly smacked his ass hard, jolting him forwards. 

"Do that again." Enjolras said, and Feuilly did, and then again, and again. Enjolras looked enraptured as he regarded the expressions each smack drew across Combeferre’s face, pain, pleasure, embarrassment, desperation. 

Courfeyrac was grinning as Feuilly fucked his two fingers forwards again, the rest of his hand sore on the abused flesh of Combeferre’s backside. “Do you like this, doc? Playing pet for Enjolras and Feuilly?”

"Yes." Combeferre said, and he choked out a moan as Feuilly added a third finger, scissoring them.

"Can Feuilly fuck him?" Enjolras addressed the question to Courfeyrac, talking over Combeferre’s head, and God, God, Combeferre’s cock gave an interested twitch at the idea.

"Of course. I’ve got condoms." Courfeyrac said, and he held one up. 

"Do you want me to fuck you, Combeferre? Fill this up with something more than fingers?" Feuilly’s voice was low, and Combeferre let out a desperate noise, and he nodded. "Then get between my legs and undo my trousers, would you?"

And Combeferre scrambled to do so, reaching out and rapidly unzipping Feuilly’s trousers before pulling them back, and then he dipped to put his mouth to the head of Feuilly’s cock (it was interesting to note Courfeyrac wasn’t the only man to neglect underwear), but Courfeyrac caught his shoulder and pulled him back.

“ _Rude_ , Combeferre.” Courfeyrac scolded. “Did you ask permission?”

"No, sir." Combeferre said, biting hard at his own lip.

"We’ll just have to leave him bereft of orgasm." Enjolras said reasonably, and Combeferre let out a quiet cry. 

"Easy for you to say that, Enjolras." Feuilly said, but he made no protest on Combeferre’s behalf. Instead, he took the condom Courfeyrac offered and rolled it on. "Up you come." Combeferre did, straddling Feuilly and slowly, slowly, lowering himself onto the other’s cock.

He slid down in a flowing movement, and when he’d taken Feuilly completely, he uttered a soft noise, his head tipping back. Enjolras moved from his armchair, stepping behind Combeferre and gently laying his hands upon the other’s shoulders. “Up. Use your thighs.” Combeferre moved slowly, until only Feuilly’s cockhead was inside him and Feuilly was holding his cock in place. “Roll your hips down, keep on your knees.” Enjolras said cleanly, and Combeferre did.

Enjolras coaxed him through every movement, convincing him to speed himself up, and as Combeferre moved, thrusting himself down onto Feuilly, Enjolras leaned, hand looping around Combeferre’s dick so that every upward thrust left him fucking up and into the grasp of his hand. 

"That’s it, doc." Courfeyrac praised him from where he was settled net to them, his own hand moving quickly on his cock, and he was giving the greedy little whimpers Combeferre was used to - Feuilly, on the contrary, made not a sound, but was grinning as Combeferre moved. 

"Clench." Enjolras ordered, and Combeferre did, drawing a hiss from Feuilly’s mouth. Feuilly came soon enough, and when he had, Enjolras drew Combeferre back with a quiet order of "Stand." Combeferre couldn’t help but melt back against him as Enjolras’ clever hand moved furiously on Combeferre’s dick, letting out loud cries of sound. 

"Remember not to come now." Courfeyrac said, and Combeferre realized now that his come was soaked on his hand, that Courfeyrac had come watching Combeferre fuck himself down on Feuilly. 

It got worse. His orgasm was building in his stomach, and he was painfully close, his knees quivering, his hips bucking. “Now.” Enjolras said, and Combeferre came, most of the evidence caught by Enjolras’ slender fingers. The blond pulled a face, drawing back and grabbing a tissue to wipe it away, as Combeferre dropped slowly to his knees again.

"So good." Courfeyrac praised, cupping his face and leaning to press kisses across his forehead and his cheeks. "That was perfect." Combeferre leaned forwards against Courfeyrac, tired, exhausted, and his dom pulled him close, up and into his lap on the couch. "That’s my boy." He purred, and Combeferre let his eyes close as he relaxed between him and Feuilly, enjoying the warmth of Courfeyrac’s arms around him and Feuilly’s hand stroking over his naked back. "Sleep a little." He suggested.

Combeferre did. 


End file.
